


you won't sleep better alone

by empires



Series: Empires Collected Prompts [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Jason Todd, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Reality, Consensual Sex, Dick Grayson is Ric Grayson, Female Dick Grayson, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Omega Dick Grayson, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Sex, otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-28 18:38:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19400041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empires/pseuds/empires
Summary: ...for the first time in a long time, she’s encountered a situation that is too much to handle....





	you won't sleep better alone

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7 - Villain Suitor for Omega!Dick Week 2019

There isn’t a day that ends in -y where Richelle Jane Grayson—Rici for short—didn’t stumble into trouble as herself or her vigilante persona, the highflying hero, Nightwing. Yet, for the first time in a long time, she’s encountered a situation that is too much to handle alone. No matter how many masked men she put down more continued to pour through the doorway while the vile gas snapped and hissed at their feet. Her movements slowed; her vision blurred. She’d paused to get her bearings. And then it all came to a stop.

Her biggest mistake had been stopping. You never stop or else you lose momentum. If you stop moving, you’re dead. Lesson relearned. Rici hasn’t stopped since waking to the much too cold air and staring down in horror.

Now, she struggles against her bonds wrapped tight around her naked chest and arms, on display for an audience of no one. Fortunately. Black Mask had made a grand exit after gloating to his prize about her present state, bound and then strung up by the wrists in the center of a secret auction room. He had forbid anyone from removing her domino.

“Your greatest secret is for the highest bidder,” he’d whispered into the shell of her ear, and then roared in pain as her foot connected with his inner thigh.

That had been hours ago, four as she counted. How long she’d been under the tranquilizer, Rici’s not sure. Most of its effects had dissipated, although there is something still in her system, she’s certain of it, some sort of aphrodisiac. Alone, the feel of the rope on her skin is arousing in a way it never has been before. Being unable to move or take deep breaths from the tight ropes pulling along her ribcage and lifting her pert breasts higher, it's dizzying. An hour barely on her feet twisting and she can smell how rich her sex is. 

She has to focus. Get out of here.

The door cracks open and a shadow slides through the door. She immediately recognizes the set of those shoulders.

She hisses, "What are you doing here, kid?"

Because it has to be the kid that has followed Black Mask like a shadow, a tall, muscular shadow for nearly three years. He calls himself “Red Hood” when he’s out in the field. Nightwing had laughed the very first time she’d heard the name because the kid’s costume consisted of black dominio and red hoodie, suggesting spur of the moment bravado rather than planned villainy. It had been one of the many memorable moments that Rici despaired over upon learning the kid really was a functioning part of Black Mask’s crew. There had been something about Red Hood, a spark that Gotham’s crime syndicate couldn’t smother. Then again, every Gotham villain has a story of what set them down the path. And in very few did anyone fight against the choice. 

They hadn’t exchanged barbs or blows in nearly a year. Red Hood had disappeared for several months, and then returned to follow at Black Mask’s side again. 

Red Hood steps into the light, confirming her suspicions. He stands closer than they’ve ever been with one another outside of combat. The chin and mouth underneath his red half mask are youthful and soft. He wears the white button down and fitted vest of a Black Mask capo. Thigh holsters pull at his tailored trousers. One hand wears a black glove, the other is bare.

Rici tosses her hair forward, pulls on Nightwing’s arrogance like a shield and glares at the henchman striding to her. She hopes it’s convincing, but despite the strength of her voice, Rici knows it’s a thin illusion. She's wobbling on her toes, and her chest aches with how aroused she is. Her thighs are wet.

"Keep it down or do you want everyone to know I’m down here," Red Hood snaps back. His voice is deeper than Rici remembers. He crosses the room and stands in front of her, arms loose at his sides, chest out, eyes bold as the survey her body.

“Why are you here?" she snaps.

His mouth opens, pauses with a red tongue poised on his bottom lip. Finally, he says, "You're about to go into heat, aren't you?"

Nightwing jerks back, heart hammering suddenly in her chest. "How. How would you? How would you know?" She can't finish the sentence because there’s only one answer. 

"I'm an alpha," he admits in a lone tone that should be soothing, but really isn’t. Not to Ric’s spiking hormones. Something must show on her face, because he steps back, hands up in surrender. "Don’t worry. I’m the only alpha here tonight. The only one here who knows about you.”

“How?” Rici presses. Red Hood hadn’t even been with Black Mask when she was captured. She hadn’t registered him with Black Mask when she had been captured, and she certainly didn’t recall him displaying alpha traits in the past. Now that he’s claimed it though, Rici can see alpha. It's clearly in the kid's posture now, the way he seems to loom even though they're almost eye to eye. He doesn’t cast scent like an alpha. Rici swallows thickly when he steps forward, inhales, but there’s barely any scent coming from Red Hood. Just the faintest impression of soft rains on overturned earth. He might as well be a beta.

“I could smell you all the way in the barracks." Red Hood says it like that means something. 

“Then why are you down here."

“Because I'm not about to let something happen to you. Not when you're like. Like this." Slowly, he reaches for her, stopping just short of touching the rope braiding over her skin.

But her treacherous body wants to know what his fingers would feel like pressing into her skin. The absence of his scent. It strikes her suddenly. If he's telling the truth of it and he can scent her arousal, can scent the low thrum of heat churning in her belly, the need and ache building, why is it that she can't scent him? The answer is simple.

“You're lying, Red," she whispers. “You’re not throwing any scent. I doubt you can even catch mine.”

"Honey, cardamon, and ground nutmeg," Red Hood recites quickly. "It's so light, distracting like a memory. The scent masks were in your suit, weren't they? Without them. Without them I could scent you from ten floors above ground."

The intensity in his gaze causes Rici to shiver. "Are you letting me go?"

His lips pinch. "Not yet," he replies, and it sounds... regretful.

Rici narrows her gaze. "What do you mean not yet?"

“I can't. You're about to crest, aren't you?" His voice is a matter of fact, like he's studied her heat cycle for ages. Another omega could tell, but not a beta. He really could be an alpha. She swallows again not liking how much she likes the idea.

"If you’re not going to let me go, get the hell out of here."

Rici struggles against the ropes digging into her back, hunching her over slightly, pressing her heavy breasts outward, displaying her for an audience and it excites and repels her.

And he finally touches her, reaches out for her arms to stop the wobbling jerk of the line she's suspended from. The instant skin touches skin, Rici jolts. It's like fire dances from his hands, warm and not soothing, urging. The feeling spreads over her skin, sending goose pimples, coaxing the sensitive hairs on arms to raise. Fresh slick melts from her pussy.

She moans. "Oh. Oh no."

Her chin is tilting up and she meets sharp green eyes behind the mask. They flare for a moment, peerless blue. Alpha.

"I'm going to get you out of here, Nightwing, I swear, but you're too close to the crest of this heat wave. If I let you go now, the second you get out."

"I know," she whispers, shivering. "I know. I’ll be useless."

"That's why I’m here. I have a plan to get you out. We probably have twenty minutes before the feed loops and my plan goes into phase two."

“Give me details,” she demands, trying to combat the simmering haze rolling through her head. Red Hood’s words slide into her ear and disappear. She can only follow the shape of his soft mouth and the voice inside her that yearns for another touch. She’s still reeling from this alpha's touch. This young alpha who is also a henchman. This alpha who feels like a bonfire creeping under her skin. This alpha who says he will rescue her. Oh, not in so many words but that's what he's here to do, right? Because she's more than an omega. If he could scent her through all this concrete, ten floors below ground and however many above that means she's _his omega_.

“But before I can do any of that, I need your permission.”

"Permission? Permission for what?"

His hands slide up to cup her cheeks. She nuzzles into them without thinking. A soft moan rattles in her throat. 

"Focus up, Nightwing. I need your permission to mate you. And. And come inside you." Red Hood’s voice commands her attention bringing back her slippery thought to this moment and their closeness. Rici can see the green flecks scattered through his eyes, feel his breath on her lips. 

"It'll settle me until the next wave starts," she says, completing his thought. "You're my. if you're my." She can't say it. She can't. "If you are what you’re implying, then the rest of my heat will be. Unbearable without you." It'll be worse than unbearable. It will be painful and long to experience his true alpha's knot and fluids only to have it ripped away from her.

The henchman nods, the faintest of flush curling visible at his throat. "I'll have to come with you. We can find somewhere safe. You bats probably have plenty hideouts around town right? Some place to ride out your heat, right?"

"But if you leave when I escape. They'll know. Black Mask will know you helped me."

He grins sadly. “I was getting a little too big for this operation anyway. Thinking about striking out on my own. “His thumb brushes over her cheek, the open slant of her lips. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You have my word, okay?"

The words resonate through her. She believes him. Somehow. She does. Nodding, Rici says, "I believe you."

His smile is fleeting, but she sees the relief in his eyes. "And do I have your permission?”

"Yes. But only if you tell me your name."

They're so close now, their voices brush over each other's lips.

"Jason," he whispers.

"Jason," Rici repeats, leaning forward. She presses a kiss to his soft mouth. The sound he makes is too sweet for a henchman, and it cracks when she bites down on his bottom lip. 

“Jason, please fuck me. I'd very much like to have the rest of my heat anywhere else but here."

He stares at her as if dazed. Then that same determination she saw in his stance when he first entered the chamber returns. “You can count on me, Nightwing.”

God, the kid is so earnest it makes her want to laugh. Instead she squeezes her thighs together as another wave of desire crashes through her. 

Slowly, carefully, he leans down for another kiss. It’s like a lightning strike down the spine. Rici parts her lips for air, just as Jason tilts his head and. He tastes divine. Trembling, Rici pushes into his hard body and takes more. She’s chasing the tang of alpha, the faint scent that never really forms. Leather sliding across her belly. Bleary eyes open to find the gloved hand skipping down her skin, urging her thighs to part and. Her eyes slam shut.

“Oh fuck,” she mouths, shuddering at the fingers probing her, parting her. She can’t look, doesn’t want to see the expression he makes while hoisting her leg over his arm and see how wet she truly is, slick heavy as fresh glaze. Two fingers feel like too much, but they slide in easily. Tapping her, stretching her, fucking her. Rici wraps her fingers around the rope and holds on.

“Just a little more,” Jason mumbles against her temple and she nuzzles his throat, nips at his jaw, bucks into the firm pressure sweeping against her clit. More lighting. More pleasure. She can feel the heat rise.

“Fuck. Nightwing. Come on, baby. Open up for me. You’ll feel so good stretched on my knot.”

“Please,” she begs, so close to the edge she can feel the fall coming. And she wants it. She needs it. “Please.”

Rici comes whimpering against Jason’s shoulder. She rides through the relief sizzling through her body, his fingers fucking into her. “More.”

“I know. I know. Just.” A kiss. It takes her breath away. “Never thought it would be this way.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Jason. Just.” She rolls her hips against him. She can’t stop. Not when two fingers turn to three. Definitely not when they disappear, leaving her to groan, aching and empty enough to flutter her lashes open. A smear of light illuminates the sticky leather glove against Jason’s velvet tongue. Tasting her. 

All the air turns into fire roasting her from the inside out. Her cheeks are peppered with kisses, her lips tingle at the sweep of his tongue. Then Jason’s moving away, around her. She tries to turn with him, but he grips her hips tightly.

“Stay still,” he says, and it sounds like a command. Nightwing doesn’t do commands, but. Rici can’t find the will to disobey. She leans forward until her back arches in a shallow presentation and her tired arms ache pleasantly. A curse is muffled against her shoulder, teeth at the nape of her neck. She moans.

“Please.”

“I know. I know. Just. Fuck, Nightwing. Hold on.” But she’s already moving at the perfect nudge at her entrance, blunt and thick enough to slide over any lingering resistance. She backs up on her toes, one step, two steps, taking him all the way with a roll of her hips. Her mouth falls open. Her pussy throbs and clenches around him.

“Alpha please.”

Jason groans against her neck sounding as lost as she feels. Lost but also found when his arms wrap around her body. His fingers curl under the rope, a secure grip. His first thrust is slow, not quite hesitant, not quite teasing. The second is more confident. The third brings her all the way to the tip of her toes.

“Yes,” she moans. “Like that.” It’s so good. She’s never felt this good, and Rici knows she can blame the tranquilizer, knows she can blame whatever inducer is still coursing through her body, but it’s not just that. She’s never felt this good, never felt as complete as she does with Jason’s fat alpha cock pounding into her wet cunt. A weak grin spreads over her lips and she croons repeatedly in her throat and _her alpha_ growls for her.

“A little more, baby. Just a little more.”

Rici trembles. “Jason. Knot me.”

Rici gaps when her vision is coated in darkness, and for long moments, she wonders if she’s passed out, but no. She’s still clenched around Jason’s cock. He’s only stilled. His heart beats like a drum, she can feel it inside her, against her back as he clutches her close. 

As sudden as the darkness, a glowing light appears behind her, an eerie gold and blue that swings above her head. 

“Fuck, fuck. Baby. Hold on. I got caught up. Thought I fucked up the timer,” Jason mutters. There’s a knife in his hand and it’s the source of the light. It swings across the rope slicing the thick bands in one swing. Rici falls backwards, falls onto Jason’s cock and it’s so deep she can feel it inside, kissing her. She moans, twisting her head, rocking her hips, fucking herself back into Jason’s lap.

“Oh fuck. Nightwing. Wait. Wait, I can’t. Nightwing.” Jason buries his face against her neck and sighs, voice horse, breath ragged. His hips twitch trying to match her pace and then he’s coming, hot white ropes of come spilling deep inside her body. It’s scalding like a whip and the heat of it whirls through her like a wildfire taking her over the edge a second time.

She takes slow, steadying breathes. It only takes four before Rici feels clear headed. As clear as she can during a heat that is. And that’s pretty freaking clear right now. She feels like she could climb to the top of this rope in three seconds, then fight all the way through Black Mask’s men if she had to all to get back on this dick.

“Jason,” she whispers, voice thick. “I think you might be my alpha.”

His laughter is breathless. “No shit.”

His shoulder is surprisingly comfortable. Ric lays more of her weight there. “You didn’t knot me.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice tight. “Couldn’t risk it here.”

“Next time?” A pulse quakes through her. Jason’s cock throbbing. She hides a smile against his neck.

“Yeah. Of course. Ne—next time. Fuck. Nightwing look. Let’s. Talk about something else for a second, okay?”

“Okay. I can do that. Is this part of your plan?” She waves at the darkness, squeezes around him just to feel his breath sputter against her cheek.

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah. The rope was wired to the failsafe system. Any tampering and the room would go into lockdown. Had to cut the power.” 

“Right. Oh wait. No.” The complaint escapes when Jason shift backwards. 

“I know. I’m sorry. Just. Hold on.” His fingers return along with a short stumpy. Oh, a toy. It slips inside her and it’s not what she wants, but it’s enough to keep the need at bay. For now. Jason goes to his knees, lips skating down the back of her thighs to help her step into….

“What are these?”

“Best I can do for now. It’s not your suit, but there are scent suppressants baked in the material of these--”

“Hot pants,” she says flatly.

“Tactical performance gear.” 

The glowing blade slices across the ropes binding her arms with ease. Then Jason pulls the straps of the gear over her shoulders. They barely contain her chest, but it’ll have to work for now. The blade disappears somewhere near Jason’s side.

“What was that?”

“It’s a long story, but I promise to tell you once we get out of here.” Standing, Jason takes her hand. And Rici squeezes it in return.

“Okay. What’s next?”

“Now, we run.”


End file.
